


Accepting Limits

by alovething



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon, Drama, No Slash, Points of View, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-18
Updated: 2005-06-01
Packaged: 2018-12-26 23:03:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12068769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alovething/pseuds/alovething
Summary: Brian the outcast meets Justin the rebel. Brian has to alter the direction of his life when he is faced with a unexpected challenge.ON HIATUS.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

**AN:** _This is an idea that wouldn't leave me alone. Tell me if I should continue. Thanks Kami. You are awesome._

* * *

_**Brian's POV** _

As I lean against the back of the moving van, I fight to keep my eyes on the untied laces of my shoes. If I look up, I’ll see the tears in Lindsay’s eyes. It’s not my fault we’re moving across the country. It’s not my fault my dad is getting transferred. It’s not my fault that I have to leave sunny Los Angeles for cold, dreary Pittsburgh.

It’s not my fault I won’t be here for her anymore.

I look up, cringing as the tears in her eyes reflect the moving van behind me, once again reminding me of my uncertain future. She looks at me differently now. Maybe it’s better that I leave, because I can’t take last night back.

I don’t want her to know that I _want_ to take last night back.

I could blame it on the vast amount of alcohol we consumed. I could blame it on the sadness and agony we felt, knowing we had one more day together before we were separated to spend our senior year of high school on opposite coasts.

But I’m not making any excuses. Lindsay is my best friend, and what happened happened. I can’t change that. It just reaffirmed who I am, who I will be.

“Brian!”

It’s time to say goodbye. 

I take a heavy step forward and slide my hands into the back pockets of my jeans as I force myself to look into her brown eyes. She has her arms wrapped around her body. She’s wearing that pink sweater that I hate. My eyes run along the soft cashmere, and I know I’ll miss even that.

“I need to go,” I say softly, fighting the urge to run away and flee this scene. I want to get away from this ache in my chest.

“I know. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

Please don’t say that.

“You’ll figure something out,” I reply.

“I thought after last night, we could actually…“

“Lindsay, stop. You know what last night was. You knew I was leaving. You know who, and what, I am.” I look her firmly in the eye. We’ve had this discussion many times before. She wants me to be someone I’m not. I can’t be some happy hetero breeder with the 2.5 kids and the golden retriever. That’s what she wants.

That’s what I’ll never be.

“Brian, we need to go.” My dad’s voice is firm and harsh. I need to go. 

“Take care of yourself.” I can’t think of anything else to say. What can I say at this juncture after six years of friendship? I take an awkward step forward and she leans towards me. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and steel myself, blinking away the tears in my eyes.

“You too.” I kiss her temple and look into her dull eyes for as many seconds as my heart can spare. Then I turn away. I turn away from her and the only life I’ve ever known.

I climb into the backseat of the cab of the moving van. My mom and dad are expressionless, stone cold. I bow my head and close my eyes, taking deep breaths to calm myself. My dad pulls out of the driveway and slowly drives down the street.

I don’t need to look back to know Lindsay is still at the end of my driveway, watching until I fade away.

_**Five Months Later** _

“So, do you think Friday’s ‘special’ is just the other four day’s worth of crappy processed food all mixed together?”

I barely hear Mikey. I bypass the vat of god knows what and pile my plate up with wilted lettuce.

“Hey, earth to Brian.”

“Huh?” I look up at him, noticing his concerned expression. I met Michael not too long after I moved here, and he became my lifeline. I don’t want to say he replaced Lindsay, but that’s how it feels. I can be myself around Michael. Lindsay always wanted something more. She wanted me to be a country club brat I never could be. She wanted to play tennis and do laps in the pool. She wanted me in khakis and polo shirts. She wanted someone I never was, and I could never convince her she was fighting a losing battle.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Well, I talked to Lindsay on the phone yesterday.”

“Oh?” He knows all about Lindsay, and our unconventional, strained, but comforting relationship. He also knows I’ve talked to her about eight times since I moved.

“Yeah, she seemed upset to talk to me. She sounded really weird and wouldn’t stay on the phone long.”

“That’s weird.” We sit down at our usual lunch table and pick at our food. My mind is still going over the short conversation from the night before. Eventually, I just shake it off. “Did you hear about the new guy?”

“What new guy?”

“I don’t know his name. Apparently he got expelled from St. James. He’s an asshole. He’s got an attitude. And he’s totally hot. Supposedly.” He stabs at his baked potato with his fork and I look around the cafeteria, trying to spot this new guy.

I could use a little eye candy.

Then I spot it. He’s blond, small, and lean. He’s dressed in loose denim jeans and a black tee shirt. His hair is shaggy and hangs in his eyes. It looks messy and unkempt, but in a way I can tell he spent an hour in front of the mirror with just that style in mind. 

His eyes are so blue, and they are staring fiercely at Kimberly Smith. She is the head cheerleader and bitch extraordinaire. It’s also no secret that she’ll spread her legs for anything with a dick and a letterman’s jacket.

“Back off.” His voice is firm, sexy. Kim giggles and runs her hand up his chest. He grabs it and holds it at her side. “I have no interest in loose twat. Now please, spare my eyes and cover your tits.”

He looks over at me and I immediately avert my eyes. I stare into my salad and glance up at Michael. He’s stabbing at his baked potato fiercely, also looking anywhere but up.

I feel the bench sag next to me and I look up at the newest addition to our seating arrangement. He glances my way before slipping a pair of headphones over his seashell ears. Michael and I stare at him in disbelief.

He closes his eyes and bounces his head with the steady beat of his music. I can hear the bass line thumping. I stare unabashedly until he finally looks over at me again. He pulls his headphones down around his neck and meets my stare head on.

“I’m Justin.”


	2. Accepting Limits

_**Brian** _

“And you are?”

I still don’t say anything. I just stare at him as he stares at me. I am spineless.

“You are…deaf. Mute?” Justin asks, raising an eyebrow. “A mime?”

“Brian. I’m just…Brian.” My voice is quiet, soft, apprehensive.

“Hello Just Brian.” He claps his hand against my back. His palm is like fire, ripping through my worn cotton sweatshirt. His hand lingers there as he turns to Michael. “Introduce yourself.”

“I’m Michael.” The greeting rolls off of his tongue so easily. I shake the hair out of my eyes. “What brings you to our table?”

“Well, you two look gayer than I am, if that’s at all possible. Let’s say I was drawn to you two. Birds of a feather and all that shit.”

“Well, we’re glad that you flocked over here,” I say. I knew I had to ability to speak. Go me. He looks over at me and gives the sexiest lopsided grin. His hand slides down my back and his nimble fingers toy with the hem of my unzipped sweatshirt. I gulp.

“Can you tell me where a bird can go to sneak a smoke at this god forsaken school?”

“Sure,” I say casually. “As long as we stop using this fucking bird metaphor.” 

His smile is blinding.

“Deal.”

_**Justin** _

I watch him as he lights his cigarette. My eyes instantly lock on his perfect hands. His fingers are so long and graceful. I watch as his fingers flex and curl around the filter of the cigarette. His hands are beautiful, an artist’s dream.

I would want to sketch them, if I still drew. But I don’t.

So I let my eyes move up to his lips, and those are even sexier. They look full and red as they cradle the cigarette. The smoke goes in and he blows it out slowly. I watch the tendrils until they fade away. He is so gorgeous.

I want to fuck him.

I have a thing for tall men. I love to see those long, lean legs wrapped around my waist as I make them beg for more. I usually make a bet with myself on how long it’ll take to get a guy into bed. I look Brian over. He looks like he’s been around the block a few times. 

I could seal the deal tonight.

I move closer to him. We’re all alone behind the gym. Michael stayed in the cafeteria. I take the lighter from Brian’s hand, that perfect hand. 

Fuck, I need to get a grip.

I light my cigarette and give him a mischievous grin as I slip his lighter into his front pocket. He raises an eyebrow and smirks. He knows what I want. He wants it too.

“So,” he breaks the silence. “Why’d you transfer here?”

“My old school didn’t really appreciate me getting a blowjob from their star quarterback in the locker room showers.” I shrug and take a deep drag off of my cigarette. He eyes me, trying to decide whether or not I’m serious. I am. He finally deems my answer to be honest and nods. 

He leans against the brick wall and smiles. We stare at each other as we smoke, sizing each other up. We talk with our eyes.

Finally, someone that speaks my language.

I crush my cigarette under my toe and watch silently as he finishes his. He flicks his off to the side and I make my move. I press him against the wall and press my lips against his. He barely responds to the kiss. I pull away and look into his eyes. His eyes are laughing at me.

“What are you doing?” He asks. I feel my face fall.

“Kissing you.” He rolls his lips into his mouth and nods. A smirk plays across his lips as the bell rings. 

“Time for class.” He gives me a wink and walks back towards the main entrance of the school. I stare after him, my mouth hanging open.

Oh, so he’s going to make this a challenge. That’s ok. I like a challenge.

~~

I watch a group of people flood out of the school. Brian exits the door. His backpack hangs off of one shoulder and he’s staring at the ground as he walks. He walks right past me and doesn’t notice.

What the hell? He’s making this a lot harder than it has to be.

I walk behind him, tucking my hair behind my ears. I fall in step beside him and grab his arm, finally getting him to notice me. He looks over at me and pulls his headphones from his ears. I roll my eyes. So that’s why.

“May I help you?” He asks sarcastically. I see the smile in his eyes. He’s teasing me. 

And he fucking loves it.

“I’m new here,” I start, giving him my best puppy dog eyes. “I thought maybe you could show me around.” He laughs at me and turns to face me.

“Justin, you came from St. James. It’s like three miles away.”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” I grin at him and he rolls his eyes. He starts walking and I jog to catch up to him. Damn his long, sexy legs. “Keep me company then. Let’s hang out.”

“So you can try to get up my ass?” He slips his tongue inside of his cheek and I smile.

“Something like that,” I reply. He shrugs and shakes his head.

“Try all you want,” he replies. 

This is going to be fun.

“Let’s go to my house. No one’s home,” I tell him. “Need a ride?”

“Sure.” I smile and lead the way to my car.

_**Lindsay** _

I stare at my binder, at the picture of Brian and I on the beach. History class is so boring. I had history with Brian last year. I was never bored. I run my fingers over his face. He’s smiling. I’m smiling.

I miss him so much.

I can’t believe he’s gone. I need him here with me. 

I _want_ him here with me. I can’t do this alone. I don’t want to.

_**Brian** _

I’m playing hard to get. I know I’m playing hard to get. I’m borderline slut. Why am I playing hard to get?

“Nice place,” I tell him as we walk into his bedroom. He tosses his messenger bag into the corner and shakes his hair out of his eyes. 

“Gotta love a queer’s sense of style,” he breathes out. I shrug out of my jacket and toss it on a chair. I sit down on the bed and he plops down next to me. I let my eyes run over his lithe body. He’s gorgeous. “So, what do you want to do?”

I want to stop playing hard to get.

So, I lean over and capture his lips in my own. He seems surprised, but he quickly gets into the kiss. His fingers lock in my hair and his tongue slides into his mouth. I suck on it greedily and run my hands up his back. The kiss is intense, perfect. I feel my heart pound against my ribcage. 

No more hard to get.


End file.
